I am the blue porcelain bowl
got in China
with a chip inside
rim of my bottom ring

only I know it's there

there was a defect
in firing when I was
made -- left a fissure
so small it went unnoticed

lady from San Francisco
who bought me in Guangdong
brought me home
never noticed invisible crack
under me

on trans-Pacific voyage
a little piece fell off --
packing box never told
about sliver of blue

Pale eyes peer down
from leafless oak
beneath the watchful gleam
of ice-chip stars
on moonless nights,
when they dance
their whispered death
on silent wings of hunger.

No quiet hints
of tiny feet
escape attention,
no faintest rustle
dim in darkness
evades anticipation,
no silence paused
on edge of fear
will lose the focus
of sharp ear
when they listen
for patterings of prey.

.
chatterbox jiber jabber yak attack clackin' clatter

this can happen on paper too
it does all the time
I know
I do

as the verbal vandal, striking again,
I ramble and amble to
no logical end

practice and practice
that's what they say
and I could be named
..."Motor Mouth of the Page"

Standing alone for all to stare;
immodest limbs slowly sway
taking no notice, doesn't care
what you might think of the display.

Only one light on comely form.
But, then, one's all that's needed.
Disrobing has become the norm
Gawking and dropped jaws go unheeded.

Garish garb is slowly shed
slow dancing to an unheard tune.
There goes the cloth of mostly red
.Full nudity will be here soon.

With always busy life
from every side defiled
by those whom unending strife
took to new lows of sin reviled

I suddenly realized
their cold antipathy
successful living demonized
was nothing but a bleak facsimile
of the human psyche unraveled.

the Discontent began -
surreptitious and slow,
stirring beneath a cauldron
of pained resentment
neither owned,
nor wished to know

Assiduously acknowledged as normal, "part of growth"
The blows became insidious
glancing past repose.
Striking at the very heart of her being
This man rescinding his gifts -
His love, His feelings.

Dark Moon

being not fond of moonlight
When I ply my trade
I tend toward the filmy
veil of shadows and
the dark moon mysteries
my excellent night vision
keeps me on target
bringing me to your
irresistible circular stair
where I the candle snuffer
will extinguish your fragile flame
and shed a heartfelt tear
as I witness the fading embers
and the one pure moment
of created dying art

inside each melody --
fragrant spark
playing round us

incandesces everything
at once

on light beams, songs
for their own pleasure play

desideratum's designedly
desiring desist of
insanity's mare of night

melodies play on
nonetheless, so there will
be light in darkest night.

"WHO AM I NOW?"
Margaret Ann Waddicor, 16th November 2010.

A moment look on high
be swallowed by the sky (I did just that and was swallowed)
self esteem find the cream/queen
deep in the mind
unless you are a sychophant
a damned great social elephant.

Prejudices ridden
illusions gone
religion's confusions cleared away
all fear of others judging
what and why you tick
whether you conform to norms
ethical.

Uncoil, with gradual breaths
Open your eyes ,refocus,
 twenty twenty vision..

Free
span the breadth
and width , expand.

Laugh, cry, scream 
Let it all out.
Expose yourself to reality.

Free.
span the breadth
and  width,
expand.